Page 37 of The White Picket Fence

Tino frowned. Charlotte was even paler than she’d been before. Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide and haunted. “Charlotte? What’s wrong?” He tugged her hand from her mouth when she didn’t answer right away. “Charlie?”

The old nickname got her attention, and she drew a deep breath. “I tutored him, Tino. In history. To get my volunteer hours for my college applications. I didn’t remember.”

“Why would you?” Tino asked, keeping his tone soothing. He still held her hand and didn’t want to let it go. “What do you remember now?”

She swallowed hard. “He was a loner, but he...liked me.”

“Everyone liked you, Charlotte,” Tino said. “You were one of the popular girls.” He’d been a popular guy, and together they’d been high school royalty. Prom king and queen. Then what she’d said fully registered. “He liked you or helikedyou?”

“The second one,” she said quietly. “He asked me to prom. I...I wanted to let him down easy because he seemed so lonely. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“What did you tell him?” Gino asked.

“That I’d already agreed to go with Tino, but that if I hadn’t had a steady boyfriend, that I would have gone with him. I mean, I knew I’d go to senior prom with Tino back in the ninth grade when I first met him, but this guy didn’t know that.”

Tino squeezed her hand. “I knew the same. So, have you heard from him since high school?”

She shook her head, then sucked in another harsh breath. “Oh my God. What prison was he in?” She leaned closer to the screen to read the answer and her whole body stilled. “Oh my God.”

“Charlie,” Tino murmured, and she met his gaze, hers filled with tears. “Did he contact you?”

“Someone did. I got emails for a while saying that a prisoner wanted to email with me. I just deleted them.”

“When did they start?” Tino asked, pulling out his phone. He was going to have to call Vito with this information ASAP.

Charlotte sat back in her chair, her whole body trembling.

Tino set his phone on the table and put his arms around her. “Hey,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

“It’s my fault. Dottie and Mr. Lombardi and Mrs. Fadil. Mr. Lewis. They’re all on me.”

“No,” Tino said firmly. “They are on Kevin Hale, if he’s the one who did this. You are a good person, Charlotte Walsh. You would never hurt anyone. Not knowingly.”

She pressed her face into his neck, and Tino immediately felt the moisture from her tears. “I hurt you.”

He stroked her hair, remembering all the times he’d done so in their past. “Breaking an eighteen-year-old kid’s heart because you don’t want the same things out of life is not the same thing as assault and murder. Not even in the same universe. You know this, Charlie.”

She shuddered in his arms and began to sob. “You called me Charlie again. Three times.”

“Should I not?”

“No, no. Please. I...needed that. Needed to know you still see me.”

“I’ve always seen you,” Tino whispered.

“No.Seeme like you did before. Before I broke your heart.”

This was why he’d steadfastly called her Charlotte. “I’ve always seen you,” he repeated, because it was true.

Because he was helpless to stop himself from falling for her all over again.

She slid her arms around his neck and held on. Watching as Gino slipped out of the room, Tino rubbed her back, letting her cry it all out. Sometimes a person just needed a good, cathartic cry.

Finally, the sobs slowed to hiccups and she sagged against him wearily. “I’m sorry.”

He tightened his hold. She was sturdier now than she’d been at eighteen, her shoulders rounder, her figure curvier. But she was far more fragile at the same time. “Hush. No saying you’re sorry. Not to me.”

She pulled away and he missed the feel of her in his arms.

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